Griselda – City On The Map (Instrumental) (Prod. By Beat Butcha & Daringer)

[Intro: Conway the Machine]
Yeah (Brr), uh
(Brr, brr, brr)
(Brr, brr, brr)
Machine
(Brr)
It’s not a game, nigga (Brr, brr)
It’s not a fuckin’ game, nigga (Brr, brr, brr)
Look, look

[Verse 1: Conway the Machine]
Ayo, I use the Arm & Hammer just to fluff my brick
Say what I wanna say and I don’t give a fuck, I’m rich (Ahh)
Tuck my fifth, don’t hesitate to bust my shit
I tell you niggas like Kyrie, “Suck my dick” (Haha)
I don’t trust a soul, I don’t even trust my bitch (Uh-uh)
Before I fall in love, I’d rather cut my wrist (Ahh)
I sweat Ace of Spades, nigga, that’s how much I sip
Body a rap nigga quick before the Dutch got twist (Ayo, let’s roll somethin’)
Yeah, the shotty ring, this shit is not a thing (Uh-huh)
The chopper make your body lean, my niggas body things (Brr)
Uh, I’m with the jackboys, I’m with the robbin’ team (Uh-huh)
On my mama, I never rocked a pair of Robin jeans (Hahahaha)
Everything I jot is mean, how you gon’ stop Machine?
My name, it probably ring like Las Vegas slot machines
The MAC by my pelvis in my Helmut Lang (Uh-huh)
The shells’ll bang, make everything outta your helmet hang
Uh, the mayo jar was Hellmann’s when I swirled the ‘caine
Then I wrapped the yayo up in cellophane (Woo)
My shooter got Dame Lillard from the elbow aim
I thought of that while I was courtside at the Melo game (Ahh)
Bricks are off-white, I imported some (Uh-huh)
Whippin’ all night until the mornin’ come (All night, nigga)
Still pitchin’ long nights until my fortune come
That’s big checks on the side like the Off-White Jordan 1s, ugh!
[Chorus: Conway the Machine]
Ayo, they think this shit a game, nigga (This shit a game, nigga)
Ayo, they think this shit a game (This shit a game, oh word?)
Ayo, they think this shit a game
Until I pull up, let it ring (Let it ring)
Until I pull up, let it ring (Let it ring)
Until I pull up, let it ring
Ayo, they think this shit a game, nigga (This shit a game, nigga)
Ayo, they think this shit a game (This shit a game, huh?)
Ayo, they think this shit a game
Until I pull up, let it bang, nigga (Let it bang, nigga)
Until I pull up, let it bang (Let it bang)
Until I pull up, let it–

[Verse 2: Westside Gunn]
Ayo, SE Gang, who fuckin’ with that (Ah)
Growin’ up, everybody mama loves you on crack
We got bodies (Got bodies, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
The masters of Pinoy
My nigga did five, he came home with a kiloid

[Verse 3: Benny The Butcher]
Yeah, I was listenin’ to Stan with coke flippin’ in the pan
I brought enough quarters back to go scrimmage with the Rams (Let’s go)
When it comes to my plug (Uh huh), it won’t fit in the sedan
Comparin’ us, you can’t do it, it’s like Timberlands to Vans
Official only, you know that, pistol under the floor mat
Been hated on more than Jesus, locked up more times than Kodak
The pots handy, pitched for my family like Sandy Koufax
Gave my connect a fresh hundred grand and he hand me dope back
Blocks and jail walls to spots on the Billboard (Uh)
Posted up in them traps and they knocked until dawn (Ayo, who that?)
The foreigns ain’t cheap and these watches still cost (Skrrt, ah)
Glocks so big, one shot knock your wheels off
[Chorus: Conway the Machine]
Ayo, they think this shit a game, nigga (This shit a game, nigga)
Ayo, they think this shit a game (This shit a game, oh word?)
Ayo, they think this shit a game
Until I pull up, let it ring (Let it ring)
Until I pull up, let it ring (Let it ring)
Until I pull up, let it ring
Ayo, they think this shit a game, nigga (This shit a game, nigga)
Ayo, they think this shit a game (This shit a game, huh?)
Ayo, they think this shit a game
Until I pull up, let it bang, nigga (Let it bang, nigga)
Until I pull up, let it bang (Let it bang)
Until I pull up, let it–

[Verse 4: Eminem]
I used to be a man of the people
Hit the clubs and mingle (What up?)
Used to dream one day I’d be fuckin’ pink like a flamingo (Pink)
That was back when I smoked Canibus
Man, but it was tough, ’cause I was a fan of his
So it sucked to hand him his ass, but
Yeah, lookin’ back on my feuds
How me and Ja Rule almost got cool
‘Cause we shot pool back in ’01
Was it ’02? I don’t know, but
Something told me fuckin’ not to
Then we got stuck in high school, I shoved an Oscar up his wazoo
Yeah, but I think of the rappers I slayed and buried like every night
And every career I might’ve killed, sometimes I say a prayer and I
Wonder is there a heaven for a G? And if so, is the sanctuary nice?
Studios for rap like Coolio, shootin’ craps at gangster’s paradise
Huh, here a mic, there a mic
Everywhere a mic, share and share alike
But just don’t compare alike
Instead of comparin’ me, pick a fair fight
Compare me to lightnin’, that similarity’s strikin’
Compare me to Jaws
Compare me to Manson, Marilyn or Charles
Compare me to Nas, Biggie, or Pac
Do not compare me to that Iggy bitch
Or all this fuckin’ Milli Vanilli hip-hop
This is where all that silly shit stops
Compare me to the pistol that triggered this thought
The semi, the Glock, 9 millis get cocked, I’m sending a shot
Don’t come around with them floss raps tryna stunt
Compare me to Meek, big wheelies get popped
One by one, compare ’em to scabs, I’m picking them off
They’re going home to fuck Nicki Minaj, aw
Compare me to Diggity-Das, yah
I’m hickity-hitting it raw, ha
In the trailer park (Haha)
Told her I’d play the part like Kanan Stark’s
Ate her twat like a Tater Tot, oh shit
Get the strap like a trainin’ bra
Lunchtime like at eight-o’clock
But Shady’s not for the faint of heart
Goin’ at these pricks like Lorena Bobbitt
Y’all want drama, we can make a scary movie like Marlon Wayans
Y’all lookin’ at the charred remains of Charlamagne tha God
Slim whip, Westside, and Conway are not playin’
I cock back, aim, and I spray ya like (Bang)